Friday, 30 November 2007

What's the German for "lay another finger on me and you'll really wish you hadn't had that croissant for breakfast"?

Hail! (Or maybe that should be Wassail, seeing as we're just a few hours away from Advent. Except I'm not entirely sure what Wassail means.) Apologies for the silence - it's mostly been due to not having the internet in the flat ("down for five days" my foot...), and partly simply because I don't have anything particularly cheery to report. Adam's hat (tragic victim of last post's over-zealous scissoring) finally made it back onto the needles, but (and I feel like the world's biggest idiot confessing this) history sort of, um, repeated itself. I have no adequate explanation to offer for this. However! I did manage to salvage a good 5" of Hat #2 (henceforth to be referred to as The Hat of Recurring Doom, for obvious reasons), so all is not lost.

On a less buoyant note, I've had the dubious pleasure of my first brush (ahh, the bad puns just keep on coming) with sexual harrassment (remember the slimy journalist? He's back, and slimier than ever before! Note to all would-be slimy journalists: you pretty much need my written permission for your hand to stray below my shoulders. Or, indeed, above my shoulders. And while I may be the Queen of Gullibility [hey, we're talking about someone who believed that treacle was mined in Russia... ] , even my internal alarm bells start ringing at the eleventieth "accidental" brushing). Luckily my boss, despite unfortunately being away, is an undercover knight in shining armour, and has promised to slay the slimy journalist with, erm, his superior grasp of German. Or something.

Ohh, and there's one good thing I almost forgot - the wool for the secret jumper! I picked it up on Monday (well, half of it on Monday and half yesterday, when I realised that I'd initially ordered enough to clad an anorexic Barbie doll rather than a burly male), and I've fallen head over heels in love with it. (Pictures to follow, so you can share in the adulation. They'll have to wait till my home internet access revives itself, though; I'm not sure what the protocoll on uploading knitting photos to government computers is. For now the best I can offer is this, swiped from an unsuspecting Raveller.) The plan is to make Mike a variation on Jesse's Flames for Christmas - he's been angling for a handknit jumper ever since I presented him with a rather wonky hat one Valentine's Day. (The hat was relegated to a tea cosy suspciously quickly, and has since dropped out of sight altogether. This may not bode particularly well for the jumper.)

P.S. I think I may actually love my boss. He's now enlisted the secretaries to form a protective barrier between me and the slimy journalist. Who do you think would win in a fight: three women armed with staplers and pot plants or a medium-sized man wielding camera equipment?

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